


Full English

by kinkmerighthererightnow



Series: Foooooood [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Belly Kink, Belly Rubs, Chubby John, Established Relationship, Feeding, Feeding Kink, Hand Feeding, Impatient Sherlock, M/M, Weight Gain, Well - Freeform, ah well, although I never tag that, belly cuddling, fat!john, just in case you were wondering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-19
Updated: 2015-11-19
Packaged: 2018-05-02 10:28:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5244878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinkmerighthererightnow/pseuds/kinkmerighthererightnow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Waking up, cuddling, eating. The daily routine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Full English

**Author's Note:**

> I initially wanted to write more smutt, but my internship leaves me little time for it and I wanted to share my second attempt at feederism /now/. Yeah, Sherlock isn't the only impatient one^^

A deep sigh escaped John as he was slowly tickled awake by streaming sunlight. He had known there had to have been a nick when Sherlock had offered the side closest to the door to him: it was closest to the window as well and the curtains weren't doing much to keep the burning light outside. Not if they weren't drawn at least. 'Rise and shine' it was, then.  
He stretched, popped a few joints and didn't care a toss about how much it made the mattress move. Sherlock hadn't thought of drawing the curtains closed last night either, so he may as well get his fair share. To be fair, he couldn't really blame the man – last night's errands had been really... pressing. Against their zips and flies.

The blond smiled a little at how his life had turned 180°in practically no time at all.  
He budged to turn around to face Sherlock, turned away from him as was often the case as he just slept better on his left side, but as soon as he was close to settling in, Sherlock pushed him back onto his back, turning around himself and shimmying down low until he could rest his head on John's belly, smacking his lips contently as his legs conquered everything that was John's lower half. Only to let out a discontented groan as soon as his sleep-limited focus could register the bright light against his closed eyes.  
  
“mmmff!” came a muffle, only recognisable as Sherlock's because of the dark tinting to it.  
  
John huffed in amusement and cleared his dry throat – painful reflex it turned out. “Sorry, what?”

 

“Turrnitoooooooffffffffffff!” Sherlock repeated, suddenly 200% more annoyed than before. Not that he'd not been annoyed before. Rarely as he slept, though more often now sex had joined his daily exhausters, he hated being woken or disturbed while cuddling. He really had to have control over everything.  
  
John chuckled lightly. “I can't turn off the sun, Sherlock.” he giggled back at the man.  
  
“Then shut the curtains?!”  
  
“I'll have to move.” John answered, voice tinged with with a little dare. It worked, as Sherlock gruffed out his protest and pulled John's body closer, hugging him tighter. Again, John made his amusement known, but flung his left arm around the taller man as well, using his right hand to idly card it through his offending fluffy curls – it seemed like they never got greasy, while John's short hair tended to look terrible 'the morning after'. Well, honestly, he did most of the work actually, so, never mind that.  
He began to hum lowly when, after a while, Sherlock started pushing, prodding and grabbing at John's belly, mapping, yet again, every roll of soft fat as they formed with the movement of his hands. Stop massaging it unless you're gonna fill it with food..”  
  
“Mmmh, hungry?”  
  
“Mh. You made me develop quite an appetite.”  
  
“You always had quite an appetite. I just satiated it to its full extend.”  
  
“Sherlock. Your habits are not to be taken as universal standards.”  
  
“Hog.”  
  
“Stick.” That always did the trick, and sure enough, Sherlock promptly got up with an offended-annoyed gruff, stomping from the bed petulantly. “Close the curtains if you're up anyway?”  
Sherlock 'tsk'ed him. John turned away from the window with a wide grin. “Less bacon, please, this time.” he called after his lover.  
This had become quite the routine for the both of them to start the day. Even when Sherlock didn't sleep, he'd come to John in the morning and cuddle up against him in some weird fashion until John got hungry or Sherlock just felt he should have breakfast, so he could watch. And help. It was horrible, really: John had never thought he'd ever see Sherlock make breakfast; much less for anyone but himself. But it turned out his 'Full English' skills were rather decent and he even mastered a dinner or two. Snacks they relied on Mrs. Hudson for and brunch, if ever, took place in varying locations. Ever since Sherlock had revealed his rather peculiar relationship with food – everyone eats except him – John had gained three stone and it was marvellous! Just seeing Sherlock go crazy over feeling John's now very much hanging tummy weigh against him as he fucked him was almost enough to make him come from memory. And although Sherlock ate more these days than before even their relationship had become a thing, he just didn't gain any weight. His metabolism was straight madness! It seemed to thrill him, though, being able to compare John's gain to his own never-changing figure.  
And John enjoyed it, too, mind you. Against his own belief, he very much liked putting on weight. He'd been chubby at the best of times, but that was it, he'd never fancied going beyond that. But when the first pounds had settled, his trousers had started clinging and Sherlock started fawning over him, he'd actually relaxed into it. Food, sex and comfort – how much better could it get?  
The only problem he had, was that he never knew just how far Sherlock was planning to go. While he liked getting fatter, he couldn't see himself madly obese, living between bed and sofa, stuffing his face all day long. Judging by the many years he'd known Sherlock, that likely was far from the madman's mind.  
That was the moment the lanky man returned with a Full English. Three of them, actually. And extra bacon. Well, they'd cross that bridge when they got to it, he figured and took the double-serving from his lover's hands as he sat up against the headboard.  
They sat in bed, eating. Well, one of them was. Sherlock seemed a bit distracted by John shovelling greasy food past his lips. The blond looked over and- oh, no, he knew that look.  
“I'm not gonna finish this while it's still warm, am I?” he asked dreadfully.  
  
Sherlock answered by abandoning his own plate and straddling John's lap, capturing his mouth for very unclean kisses. Against his fear, apparently he was going to eat. From Sherlock's hand. And occasionally his mouth. Just the touches to his pouching belly with greasy fingers were a bit off-putting, but Sherlock made up for that with very sexy kisses.  
At some point, though, the food was indeed forgotten when Sherlock lost himself in nibbling at John's soft jawline and the doctor took the precaution of putting the plate down on the bedside table, unwilling to interrupt Sherlock's ministrations.  
When he and Sherlock had first engaged in their relationship as a couple, he'd never have thought he'd be having this much sex ever again. Turns out the 'asexual' man was a very horny bastard once he's warm with his partner. Apparently more of a demisexual, perhaps even paired with sapiosexuality, considering how he quickly turned down people he deemed stupid.  
And, God, was John lucky he was the 'chosen one' because despite the assumed lack of experience, Sherlock was one, if not _the_ best shag he's ever had. Just his riding-technique was...

But John knew, since the kink was discovered, Sherlock liked to be fucked rather than fuck. Mind you, that didn't mean he was giving up control. John didn't know how he did it, but somehow Sherlock managed to physically manipulate him to exactly what he wanted.  
And so, before Sherlock could even straddle his lap 'properly', John was flipping them around, earning the first needy grunt from the brunet. John bit at his bony jaw and Sherlock's hips snapped up in response, accompanied by a heavy huff of breath.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Could write more, if you wanted me to


End file.
